Chapter 25
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
“I am not afraid of storms, for I am learning how to sail my ship.” ~Louisa May Alcott, Little Women
T he words fell out and they couldn’t be put back in.
“It’s my fault. Evan is dead because of me.” Like a record on repeat, it just kept coming out of Nat, along with her tears.
For ten years, she’d held onto this secret. For ten years, guilt had been her constant companion, a noxious swirl in her stomach threatening to choke her.
Noah drew her into the house and closed the door. Keeping her tucked into his chest, he guided her to the couch and then down onto the cushions. He squeezed in right next to her, never withdrawing his arm, or his hand, or his concern.
With quiet patience, he held her, not asking…not demanding more.
Nat twisted her gaze away from his watchful eyes. It was too much to look at him as she confessed. “The night Evan died, we were supposed to go on a run together. We had planned it earlier in the day but…”
He linked their hands and squeezed gently coaxing her to continue.
“Before we went, we got in a fight. Duncan was pressuring me to go to NYU with him, instead of Boston College. I told Evan I was thinking about it. He said I was making a huge mistake… He was right.” The words were a quiet croak.
She focused on a watercolor painting of an elderly couple in a rowboat hung on the wall. The man’s blue eyes, rimmed in happy crinkles, looked at a silver-haired woman. Their joined hands clasped around the oar, working in tandem to row the boat. The picture could be of her mom and dad, or even a glimpse into a future that she worried was too soon to wish for.
You’re not that rainbow-sprinkled single scoop any more.
She swallowed hard. “I told him I didn’t want to run with him. I called him a jerk. That was the last thing I said to him. Then he died, and it was my fault.”
“Nat, it was an accident.”
“It wouldn’t have happened if I had been with him.”
Noah cupped her chin, turning her to face him, his eyes the color of a stormy sea. “If you had been with him, the truck would have hit both of you.”
“He never ran on the country roads when I was with him. If I had gone, we would have been at the park. Evan would be alive. He’d be here. We’d have the complete Owens family instead of the one I broke. I broke them…I broke us.” Hot tears coursed down her cheeks.
“It was an accident, baby…a terrible fucking accident.” His strong arms held her as if they’d never let her go.
As if her confession changed nothing in his eyes. As if she was still special. Still perfect.
Burying herself in his embrace, the tears raged. Each tick of the last precious moments with Evan salted every tear. The regret in his eyes. His usually carefree smile just a firm disappointed line. The frustrated tug of his strawberry-blond hair. The exasperated rasped mutter for her to be reasonable. The knock on her door that she’d ignored, knowing it was him.
“I’ve got you,” Noah soothed, running his hands along her spine.
Raising her head, her eyes met his. His stare crawled into her. Seeming to not look at her but into her.
Closing her eyes, she buried her face against his chest once more, finding shelter in his strength. It felt like days later, but it was only moments when the storm of tears tapered to a mere drizzle. She remained pressed tight to him. The front of his soft T-shirt was damp from her emotional torrent.
“I’m sorry I used your T-shirt as a tissue…again,” she sniffled, her voice muffled in his embrace.
His hand swept soothing strokes up and down her back. “That’s why I buy such soft T-shirts. They make the best tissues.”
She met his gaze. “What do you see when you look at me now?”
Over the last few weeks, she’d seen glimpses of how she looked in his eyes. You’re perfect. His words whispered to her fearful heart. How would she look to him now that he knew the truth about her? About what she’d done. About who she was. She wasn’t who he thought…who anyone thought…she was. She wasn’t a good daughter. She was the destroyer, not the caregiver. She was an imposter.
“You’re still my Nat… My perfect Nat.” Sincerity glimmered in his gaze.
“But—”
The press of his lips stole her protest.
Nat didn’t fight it. Pushing away the voices telling her to stop, the voices hissing that she didn’t deserve this. Her arms encircled his neck and she melted into their hungry kisses.
Emotions collided in a riot within her; sadness, anger, self-loathing, belonging, desire. And above all else, something she was not yet willing to name fought for control. Once you name something you own it. It was too soon to own that emotion. So much swirled within her.
“I need you… Please.”
He stood up and scooped her into his arms, carrying her upstairs. Their mouths locked in devouring kisses with each step. Noah laid her upon the wine-red bedspread. The satiny softness cushioned her. Crawling over her, his ravenous mouth pressed kisses everywhere. Her mouth. Neck. Collarbones. Breasts. And down her torso over the smooth fabric of her sundress.
Strong hands glided up her thighs, pushing up her dress until it bunched at her waist. Like an acolyte worshipping her, he placed a soft kiss over the lacy fabric of her panties. The touch of his lips scorched through the thin barrier.
All she wanted was to get lost in this. In the touch of him…of them. Drowning in the ocean of them, warm waters lapping over her to wash away all other thoughts or feelings.
Impatience crested and she pushed him away. Pulling the sundress over her head, she tossed it to the carpeted floor. Noah followed her lead, yanking off his T-shirt. Then, she unclasped her bra and pulled off her own panties. He stood, shoving his track pants and underwear off. This felt like a race, where both of them panted toward the naked finish line.
No preamble. No slow seduction. Just a need for connection. To have the only sensation inside her be him. Rising to her knees, she pushed him onto his back. She crawled on top of him and notched his tip at her entrance.
As she sank onto his firm shaft, every single one of her nerve endings screamed with relief.
“Noah.” She uttered his name like a thankful prayer as the delicious twinge of almost-too-full pushed away anything but this. But them.
Noah grasped her waist, rocking her hips in a slow, tantalizing pace. Wantonness surged inside her. She wanted…needed more. The quickening pace of their rhythm built a pleasurable pressure at her core.
“More… I need more,” she whimpered her demand.
Wrapping his arms around her waist, Noah flipped them, pressing her into the soft mattress. “I’ve got you, baby,” he growled, thrusting deeper inside her.
“Fuck!” she gasped, combusting with the fire that burned along her veins.
He gripped the backs of her knees, widening her legs and finding an angle that sent an achingly sweet tremor across her entire body. Noah sheathed himself up to the hilt, thrusting more forcefully. Driving her mad with his body.
“Come for me, baby,” he grunted, moving his hand just where she needed him.
“Yes!” she cried.
Her sex clenched around him as the first waves of release crashed over her. She was destroyed. Her limbs were almost liquified by the pleasure slamming through her. She clung tight to his shoulders.
The muscles in his back grew rigid. He gritted his teeth. His hands dug into her hips, pumping hard. “Nat,” he grunted, slamming into her before his body convulsed with release.
They lay still, panting hard.
When she rolled her head toward him, she found Noah studying her. He caressed her cheek. “You’re still perfect to me, baby. The only thing that changed with you telling me about what happened with Evan is that I feel closer to you…something I didn’t think was possible.”
Nat didn’t know how to respond, so she merely lay quietly in his arms.
Pulling out of her, he rolled over onto his back, tucking her under his arm close to his chest.
Eyes closed, she melted into his embrace. Every thought, feeling, and tension that lingered dissipated in his arms. In the soothing cocoon of silence broken only by the beating of his heart, everything disappeared but him and her.
“When I was in Iraq, one of my closest friends in my unit was this guy named Seth.”
Nat traced the outline of his yellowjacket tattoo with her finger. “The surfer from San Diego?”
“Yeah.” She opened her eyes to find a tiny smile on his lips. “You remember from my letters?”
“I remember everything you wrote me.”
He kissed her forehead. “Seth was supposed to be in the last truck in the convoy with this Navy Corpsman named Martin, who talked nonstop about golf. We’d done rock, paper, scissors, and I let him win. Seth always picked rock. Our CO let us switch vehicles since our jobs within the convoy were identical.”
She pressed harder into him, instinct telling her he needed it or, maybe, it was just for herself.
“We ran across a series of IEDs.” He swallowed hard. “There were no survivors in the first few vehicles.”
“Was this how you were injured?”
He nodded and swallowed hard. “I woke up on the roadside, a searing pain in my leg and the smell of burning…”
Nat placed her hand on his heart. Something pulsed in her to remind him that, at this moment, his heart was safe in her hands. That she was there to carry his story…his pain, just as he’d done for her.
“Martin was there. The Navy Corpsman that nobody wanted to sit by patched us up and got us out of there…those of us who were still alive. Ten of us made it.”
“How many…”
“There were thirty in the convoy.” He sucked in a deep breath. “I didn’t find out about Seth until I was transported from the field hospital to Germany. If I had let him lose…” His voice cracked, and he coughed to cover the emotion. “If I’d let him lose, he’d have been on that flight to Germany. He’d be alive.”
“But you’d be gone.” The words flew out of her, almost like a scolding.
Quiet fury boiled inside her. How dare he think that! How dare he even consider a world where he wasn’t here?
Noah pressed a hand to her cheek. “Not like that. I don’t regret surviving. I don’t regret the gift I have to live, but I do feel guilt that my gift came at the expense of someone else.”
“You were just helping a friend. There’s no way you could have known that would happen.”
His fingers traced along her hairline. “Just like you didn’t know that would happen to Evan when he left for his run.”
“It’s not the same…I made a decision that cost him his life.” She sat up.
Noah followed, pulling her back into his arms. “So did I. We both made choices. Baby, we both feel guilty for our choices, but we didn’t make it happen. I didn’t cause the road to be lined with IEDs. You weren’t the reason that overworked truck driver dozed off at the wheel. You didn’t make Evan run on the country roads instead of at the park. Evan ran those roads all the time despite your parents telling him not to.”
The tears fell again. Tears for Evan. Tears for Noah. For Seth and the nineteen other Marines lost, and the semi-truck driver who had to live with what he’d not meant to do. Tears for her parents and Clayton. Tears for herself.
“Evan loved you so much. Clayton was already a big brother when you were born, but Evan became one because of you. It was like you fulfilled all his dreams. I remember him being so excited to have a little sister. He’d annoy Clayton, saying he would be a better big brother than him.”
“He was a really good big brother,” she sniffled.
“I know Evan wouldn’t want you to blame yourself. I know people say things like that, but I am confident about this because I knew Evan. All he ever wanted for you was for you to be happy. To be all that he knew you could be. All that you are.”
Nat swiped away her tears, allowing the memories to wash over her like a cleansing shower. Evan helping her study for the SATs, laughing about how they’d be the Dr. Owens duo of Perry. His twenty-first birthday where he snuck her a hard cider, and they sat in the gazebo after Mom and Dad went to bed, toasting to his first legal drink and her first illegal one. The morning before the accident when Evan tried to teach her how to make pancakes and, of course, she burnt them, so they toasted Pop-tarts and drizzled syrup on them.
“Guilt is a powerful master. It not only keeps us locked in, but when we finally escape, it pulls us back in time and time again,” he murmured, skimming his fingers along her back. “I wish I could take the pain away from you so you didn’t hurt like this anymore, but I can’t…What I can do is share it with you. Let me share your sadness, your struggles, your happiness, your laughter…let me be here with you and for you.”
“My warrior,” she whispered, pressing her hand on his cheek.
“Your everything.” He took her hand, placing it back on his heart.
The cadence of his heartbeat roared like a bass drum, loud and commanding in its declaring beat. The air exited her lungs in a swift jolt. Noah wasn’t promising everything, he was offering it. He was offering himself. All of him for her…only for her.
“My everything? So, you’re the Swiss Army knife of boyfriends then.” Her lips curled in a teasing smile.
“Boyfriend?” His right eyebrow arched.
“Well, it stands to reason that if you are my everything that would include boyfriend.” She tapped her chin in mock thought. “Personal chef. Snowplow guy in the winter. Giver of orgasms year-round.”
Laughter pulsed through him. “Yes. All of those things and much more.” He dipped his head, sealing their mouths in a reverent kiss.
“Sorry. Not to be like a teenager handing you a check ‘Yes’ or ‘No’ note in study hall, but we are saying that I”–she motioned to herself—“am your girlfriend and you”—she motioned to him—“are my boyfriend. Correct?”
“Yes.” He raised his hand as if taking an oath. “I, Noah James Wilson, do solemnly swear that I am the sole boyfriend of Dr. Natalie Joan Owens.”
She giggled, “You middle-named us both.”
“I take this being your boyfriend thing very seriously.” He snuggled her closer. “Next question: are we telling people we are boyfriend/girlfriend?” His nose scrunched. “Now I sound like a teenager.”
Nat bit her lip. Hesitation tiptoed inside her. Dating Noah wasn’t like dating anyone else. If today reinforced anything, it was that their families were so enmeshed that if this wasn’t handled just right, it could rip lifelong relationships apart. She’d lost one brother; she couldn’t lose another nor see him lose the surrogate brother he had in Noah.
“Not yet.” Her fingers threaded through the silky dark hair dusting his chest. “I want to just give us more time before we let others in. I promise it won’t be forever…I just need more time. If this is a deal breaker…” The words refused to come out.
“I understand.” He traced her lips. “Sometimes warriors need to be patient.”
“Well, patience is something that should always be rewarded.” She pressed him backward until his back hit the mattress.
Nat’s eyes flicked to the alarm clock on the bedstand. “I’m going to reserve the right to harass you about having an alarm clock like the geriatric millennial that you are for later because I only have forty-five minutes to sex you up before I have to grab my Jeep from the park and head back home.”
Noah flipped her onto her back, kissing down her body. “Forty-five minutes? I need to get to work then…I have a girlfriend to please.”